The first time I went white water rafting I insisted we go with a guide. I tend to be an anxious person and not much of an outdoorsy person. I like to know what’s coming and to feel safe.
This is sometimes at odds with the adventurer I married. He grew up boating and camping and hiking. He tells me about walking on train trestles exploring with his friends. I take him at his word with the story about having to swim faster than the snake he realized was in the lake with him. He was pretty excited about our rafting excursion and sure he wasn’t in need of a guide. After all, this is a river in North Carolina and not a particularly rough white water.
We split up in two rafts. He and his brother would take our sons in one raft and my sister-in-law and I would go with our daughter and guide in our raft.
Most of the river was slow and easy. We’d sat through the orientation to know how to get off the man large rocks just below the surface but our guide steered us clear of those.
He sat in the rear and would call out when to paddle and when we got out of the current he’d say, “Take a break”. Over and over we heard his easy voice call out those words and drawing out the word break. It was more like breeaaakk. We did.
I’ve been down that river several times since then and am planning to go again next week. We’ve moved on from the days of having a guide, feeling more comfortable with the rhythms of the water. But I’m still going to take a break.
I could continue writing and posting while we’re away. There’s internet service at the house we stay in and a few quiet afternoons on the porch. While I could, I don’t think I should. I’ll probably journal while we’re away. It’s a good time to put thoughts down but it’s also a good time to take a break from public writing. We’ll be sharing life face to face. Catching up with friends and sharing hope with a group of men from our ARC (Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center). The stories will keep. Some will be shared but first, it’s break time.